


You’ll Be Back

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Immortal Fake AH Crew, M/M, Mad King Ryan, Mad King!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There was a night, long ago, when their King had run away. He had simply disappeared, the Queen had said he had “wanted to live his death alone”, his advisors had called it “making peace with himself.” When they had news of his death there was this overwhelming feeling of something wrong, something that doesn’t fit. These emotions would play at them until they were inevitably invaded by a rival Kingdom, when his old court were forced to flee their lavish lives and along the way accidentally separated.OrRyan and Gavin last as long as their lives.
Relationships: Gavin Free/Ryan Haywood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	You’ll Be Back

**Author's Note:**

> This isn’t a soulmate au, watch out for Be Here on Sunday (it will not be posted at the time I normally do, sorry.)

Ryan’s kingdom had been his prized possession, a court filled with the likes of magic and power the people had yet to see. His court had witches and elves, magicians who were perfecting their crafts and dabblers who even though they lacked experience were still some of the most controlled and powerful people he had ever met. He had always favoured his court over everyone else, had always found Jack’s flying and Gerki’s mischief to be great entertainment. There was always a court favourite though, always someone in the palace who would catch his eyes more than the rest, someone who he had kept after he had taken the throne for the previous king, his precious little jester. 

His jester had not been treated kindly under the other King, he was kicked to the side and abused for the court’s entertainment, never given the opportunity to joke about before being ridiculed and abused. His old King was not kind to anyone, he openly demeaned and undermined their efforts, never wanted anyone to challenge his opinions on what would benefit their kingdom, he only cared for people who would suck up to him and feed his narcissistic personality. When Ryan had fought the King he had been no one of notice, a simple rogue who was tired of living somewhere that had never done anything for his people, felt drained in existing in a place that had only allowed the rich to get richer. When he had slaughtered the King and announced himself as on the throne no one dared to challenge him, they called him mad, a merciless person who craved bloodshed. They spread rumours about him, about how he had decapitated a knight who had spoken ill of his right to the crown or how he had once put a young boy on trial for looking at him the wrong way. All lies, all things he ignored, all words that had been laughed at by his court.

His jester was his favourite for many reasons, he didn't believe in the frill and fancies that had been synonymous with his profession, had called the colour of his costume “ghastly” and instead decided to don something more simplistic when he was only in the presence of those close to him. He also thought that he was a lot more endearing than others, a nice pretty face, a soft voice that refused to sugar coat bad news or his political views. He was controversial, brave and delightful to be in the presence of. His jester was simply his, in more ways than his kingdom had known. 

\-- -- -- 

Gavin’s life in the castle with Ryan had been one of his favourite lives to live. He hadn’t known back then that his life wasn’t as fragile as he was first lead to believe, he had valued every second he worked under Ryan, he hadn’t been treated like he was under his old king, feared for his life or kicked to the side like the old monarchy would have. Ryan had been a fair ruler, a cruel one when he had been wronged but still he valued his people - he would only be unkind to those who attempted to corrupt the sanctity of his kingdom. 

It wasn’t just in public though where he was being valued, no matter how frowned upon their relationship had been they still attempted to maintain it. Even when he was forced into producing an heir, when he was forced to wed a woman from nobility for appearances, Ryan still made sure that Gavin had his attention, let his eyes stick to him like glue whenever they were in each other’s presence. It was their dirty secret, their double life that was only known by select members of the court. 

One of the few who knew was Gavin’s closest friend, Gerki. No one knew where he came from or how he had become one of the few elves to enter the castle without being decapitated but still, Gavin had clinged to him. Gerki was one of the few who had no sense of morality, he was crude and often tried to get the others engaged in debauchery. He would taunt the King by trying his hardest to get closer to Gavin. They spoke loudly and freely over dinner, Gerki often joking about slipping something into their wine or taking them back to his quarters for the evening. Gavin would laugh when it sent Ryan red at the ears, when his mouth would clench and he would take another bite of his food but seeming to chew it harder than he had before. 

The court had always been a sight to see for anyone who witnessed it. Gavin was more than entertainment for them, had been considered one of the higher ups by the King who had been absolutely fascinated by his abstractness, his complete unwillingness to be a simple fool. There was Jeremiah who often screamed about bringing presents, would raise a scene when he found foreign wine, Geoffrey who would sigh in disappointment at their antics often, Jack who dabbled in making them all more powerful with her special brews and Michael their bravest knight. Their court was mixed and plentiful with talent, but most important of all there was companionship within it. 

Being a Jester had never benefitted Gavin as much as it had when Ryan had cared for them. 

\-- -- -- 

There was a night, long ago, when their King had run away. He had simply disappeared, the Queen had said he had “wanted to live his death alone”, his advisors had called it “making peace with himself.” When they had news of his death there was this overwhelming feeling of something wrong, something that doesn’t fit. These emotions would play at them until they were inevitably invaded by a rival Kingdom, when his old court were forced to flee their lavish lives and along the way accidentally separated. 

Gavin remembered the night when Ryan left well. He had stood in the doorframe of his chambers with a letter clenched between his fingers, a vice that seemed to not want to let this go, whatever it was it contained. Ryan didn’t say many words that night, he clenched his jaw as though he was in pain, something was tormenting him but Gavin couldn’t get the words out to ask the cause. Ryan had said only 6 words to him that night, had kissed his lips, pecked his cheeks, left a mark on his neck and left the letter on Gavin’s bedside. Ryan had wrapped Gavin in his arms for one more moment before going to leave. 

“I’ll be back again, I promise,” He had whispered into Gavin’s ear, had let his hand cup Gavin’s cheek once more, hadn’t the heart to kiss him goodbye one last time. Then he was gone and Gavin felt alone again. 

\-- -- -- 

The night Ryan left a storm devastated his land, the wind battered through people’s houses and the rain flooded the streets. The rain trickled from the sky like the tears down Gavin’s face, a pain grew inside as the storm worsened, the wind picked up and swung the castle’s windows, the rain on the walls echoed throughout his room. He felt helpless, trapped from the weather and his emotions. 

He sat there while the tears kept pouring from his eyes, there was a ring on his ring finger, the Haywood crest sat there on his hand, his slender finger being crowded by its weight and size. He twisted it around while he cried, mourned the loss of someone he felt like he had known a whole lifetime. 

His room felt like it was shaking when he started sobbing, his heart pounded in his chest, his throat restricting as all he could do was cry the pain away. There was something in him now he had never felt before, residing in his chest, burrowed deep within him. Gavin felt incomplete. 

\-- -- -- 

It had taken centuries for Gavin to move on from his past. He could hear the name now without the tears coming later, could feel the pain it caused without feeling the need to express it. He had ended up living a new life for a while, moved across the world, lived a thousand different lives with a thousand different people yet the importance of his King had never once faltered. He had remembered his trip to the ‘new world’ , when the only thing of value was the ring on his finger and the clothes on his back, this weird new land was emerging with infrastructure and jobs that had been lacking in his new home, he needed to move, the breath of fresh air on his face, a world where no one knew him. 

His anonymity lasted until the 20th century, where the cities towered above him and each corner of the street was filled with rats and danger. He carried a knife and a pistol whenever he walked, made sure it was sharp before he left his apartment. It had only taken someone nearly stealing his ring for him to decide protection was the best option. His ring was still as clean as it was on the day he received it, he tried to keep it as pristine as possible, the grime having built up where the crest was embossed into it, the gold that once glistened in the sunlight was starting to become dull the more he wore it. He’d had this ring since he was 20 years old, he was pushing 600

He forgot how noticeable it was to people who knew though, understood the significance of the crests from so long ago. 1300 didn’t sound so far away in his mind, the age where he had lived and existed with good company before he felt it torn away from him. The ring was all he had left, but he forgot that there was a chance the people from his past had been just like him, growing older in a world that refuses to let them be forgotten. 

He hadn’t thought much of it when he had killed the mugger. They had stolen his ring, his wallet and his patience before they were shot dead in the alley behind his apartment. It wasn’t so much the wallet had mattered to him, but it felt justifiable to kill someone for a little more than a ring. He had gone about his day afterwards, the police didn’t care about the bodies that lined Los Santos’ streets, he had thought it would be another death in the news that would never be investigated. He had never thought of the gangs themselves trying to hunt him down for it though. 

It was a few weeks later when he got cornered in the street, a knife against his throat and absolutely not in the mood to have his stuff taken off him. He whined a small “not again” and just hoped they only wanted the wallet. He felt himself instinctively playing with the ring on his finger like he always did when he was anxious, twirled it around and around to keep himself distracted. 

“You killed one of my muggers,” The man started, his voice sounded familiar in a nostalgic way, as though this was someone he was meant to have known for centuries. 

“Mate, I’m being mugged literally most days a week, you can’t expect me to not do nothin’,” Gavin spoke. His voice was strained at the point of the knife, where the perpetrator was pushing it in deeper, but not quite enough to break the skin. 

“No shit you’re being mugged, you wear a flashy gold ring every goddamn day and expect yourself to not become a target?” He argued. Gavin was amazed the conversation had lasted this long without him being killed. He knew the guy couldn’t, for obvious reasons, but he still couldn’t be bothered with respawning when he had to get to work in an hour. 

“Oh shove off,” Gavin sighed, he placed his hands on the man’s chest and pushed him away with force, trying to get the man off him so he could get to his job on time. He hadn’t expected the ring to fall off his finger when he had, which made the crime boss all too happy to see. 

Until he picked it up, then his face dropped. He stared at the front of the ring for a while, emotional turmoil behind his eyes.    
  
“Why do you have the Haywood ring?” He questioned, voice dark, eyes sad. 

“Why do you know Ryan?” Gavin questioned, his voice a near shriek now he knew he could speak again. 

“Answer the question, now,” His voice had this edge to it, disappointment seemingly. The voice of a man who just wanted people to obey him.

“I was his Jester, can I have that back now?” Gavin’s voice grew impatient. He didn’t want to be without the one thing he had lived with for this long. 

“Gavin?” 

“What about it?” 

“Geoff Ramsey, it’s been a while.” 

\-- -- -- 

It had taken a while for their court to become reunited. They had feared some may have not been like them, they had hunted obituaries for names of their old peers, hoping to never find anything. They had found only one person they remembered in their findings, Gerki. It had scared them to know some of the people they had spent so much of the start of their lives with may not have turned out like the rest but still they had persisted in their search, hoping to get them all together again. Lost souls in need of their old friends. 

They had found Jeremiah eventually. He wasn’t the same. He was Jeremy now, who hated authority and would kill everyone and anything that got in the way of his plans. His voice had changed too, less whiny, more growling. He had been the last one to find, they were now only missing their king. 

No one had heard about him in centuries, when his crown had been found buried in the ground where the castle ruins lay. No one knows how it had gotten there, had assumed one of them or even him had taken it yet it had ended up in a British museum, put on display as an unknown monarch’s crown. History had washed away Ryan, scrubbed away his court and his kingdom. Their existence had been left behind, no one knows of their lovely witch and immoral elf, nor did anyone care for the fact that they had simply ceased to exist. There were 6 who wanted to remember, bring justice to a kingdom that had been devastated and lost. 

Gavin had been overjoyed when Jeremiah had returned to them, he had changed with the rest of them, completely bald and with more of an anger to him. He spoke badly of the state, the government who had tried to lock him up for nothing. Since Ryan had disappeared Jeremy had run rampant, protesting, riots, guns and police shootouts. It had only taken one false imprisonment for him to lose all respect for the system, for him to oppose them with everything and raise his own kind of hell. 

On that day Gavin searched his room for the crown he had stolen from the British museum, Ryan’s crest was engraved on the inside, a gentle reminder of time long past, an item he wanted to return. 

\-- -- -- 

Ryan wasn’t sure how he went from a King to a mercenary. He had returned to being a rogue, living his life on his own without being harmful. It wasn’t until he was in need of money that he had become who he was now, in desperate need and willing to become the lowest of the low to make sure he could survive. He had scouted seedy bars for work, when someone had offered to pay him handsomely for a small murder he had taken the offer before the man had even talked about the stipulations. 

It was all downhill from there. 

\-- -- -- 

The Vagabond was a scary name in Los Santos. A man who could never seem to die, a man who would murder ruthlessly, muscle for hire. Rumours grew the minute he stepped foot in the city, the dark black skull mask had created whispers amongst its residents. Gangs quaked in fear at a man who would shoot someone so blindly and still land a headshot, he seemed to have appeared from air and left a mark. 

Naturally, Geoff wanted to hire him. The Fakes were already a force to be reckoned with, their power seemingly unmatched but Geoff craved a true monopoly, something that would stop the rivalries out of pure fear, the only ones who would dare to challenge them would be foolish. 

It had taken him a year to get him to agree to at least do a heist with them, a small bank robbery and hopefully quite quick. They didn’t have enough men for the amount of money they wanted to take, nor enough hands for it to all go to plan. Just some intimidation on the bank floor, and someone good with a gun to help fend off the police. 

They didn’t know what to expect of him, a faceless and nameless man with the power to destroy. They definitely didn’t expect the man they got. 

\-- -- -- 

When Ryan had walked into the Fakes’ penthouse he hadn’t thought it would be anything extraordinary. There was a woman holding her hands over another man’s legs, she was chanting something as a small patch of light illuminated from his body, a man with a history book laughing whenever someone who looked like him popped up, a man in a cowboy hat writing in a notebook with the words fascism looped elegantly around a stick figure. Their faces registered as people he had seen before yet nothing could be placed to their faces, they looked like people. 

Then a man walked out from the corridor, sleeves turned up to his forearm and heavy gold decorating him. It wasn’t the grandeur that had caught him off though, it was his smirk. The smirk of a jester that he had kept close to his heart for centuries, someone who made the air seem lighter and the sky more blue. The thing that had dragged his attention most though, a crown slightly rusted with age that sat on the jester’s bed. A crown that had once been his, a crown kept by his court - a court he didn’t know anymore. 

He looked around saddened by the changes he hadn’t been able to witness, they all stood taller now, more ready to fight than talk, knuckle dusters and guns lined the flat, there was a confrontational energy in the room that had never been in the castle. They had changed, they had matured and they had grown without him, he couldn’t recognise the very people who stood by his side every day - no matter how much it seemed that they kept him in their memories. 

He wasn’t sure what to do, he had changed the least, his face still similar to when he was king, his body no more muscular than before. He had changed in personality, he was no longer merciful or kind. He was unforgiving in how he killed, he had hunted and murdered, he was no longer someone who would offer second chances, they were more often wasted than not. 

He sighed, faces drew to him in acknowledgement, Gavin leaned against the wall that lead into the living room, eyes squinted as though he was scrutinising him. He just wanted them to know without the inner turmoil that may come from, no one knew who was behind the mask, he didn’t trust anyone to not exploit his secret. 

Eventually he took a breath, a deep breath and ripped it off. His mask landed on the floor, they stared in confusion, wondering why someone who had no identity would dare remove their only protection. 

“Hi, I’m Ryan Haywood.”

\-- -- -- 

Gavin choked when Ryan spoke, collapsed to the floor in a fit of coughs and tears. He smiled as much as he could while he got his breath back, a shock to his system in more ways than one. The rest of the crew were in varying degrees of shock, Geoff looked blank, Jeremy was in disbelief, Michael immediately started yelling, Jack had to sit down. 

Ryan immediately darted towards Gavin, bending down in front of him to make sure he was okay. Gavin couldn’t stop the tears from falling, couldn’t help the way there were butterflies in his stomach and his heart was beating rapidly. 

Everything seemed a bit ridiculous at that moment, the stares coming from all directions and the surprise that their King had returned, the silence that had formed a blanket over them. It all felt very uncanny. 

\-- -- -- 

It was later in the day, when everyone was lounging on the sofas that Gavin realised where Ryan’s ring was still being worn. He had been fiddling with it until he realised Ryan would probably want it back. He’d had this ring for centuries, had carried it with him no matter where he went but it was still Ryan’s. It was never his, he wore it for Ryan, because of Ryan and simply because Ryan had given it to him. The ring had been a sentiment of his kingdom lost, not a part of who he was now. 

He slipped it off his finger, the sudden lightness feeling strange, something he had rarely experienced or noticed. When he wiggled them they moved with a dexterity he never thought he’d had, the ring was heavy yet not something that Gavin had noticed until he thought he would be without it. 

When he stepped towards Ryan though, ring between his index finger and his thumb, he did not take it back. He looked at it, then looked at Gavin’s face and looked at his old court. The court that had never known what they used to be, their secret moonlight endeavours and the marks that would show the morning after. Ryan looked and thought about how they would’ve reacted then and simply decided he didn’t care. Maybe they already knew, maybe they didn’t. 

He grabbed Gavin’s face, making sure to not grip too hard and guided them together. He kissed Gavin for the first time in over 500 years and refused to let go. He didn’t want to deal with the heartache of more time without him. 

Gavin was in shock before he noticed what was happening, gladly lapping up the attention of his old lover, he was awkwardly bent down, Ryan’s hands on both sides of his face, cupping his cheeks gently. It felt amazing, felt good to be loved and to be in love, felt good to feel the lips of someone he never thought he’d see again. 

It felt like the sun shone on them that day, rays of gold that slipped through the window onto them. It felt like a message, that this was a good thing. 

\-- -- -- 

A few weeks later Los Santos was rampant with thunder and lightning. Gavin was straddling Ryan’s waist, panting and whining while grinding his hips down. He ran his fingers over Ryan’s chest, up his neck and over his lips. He wanted Ryan to move, to make him feel content and out of it again and again and again. 

Gavin leaned down, gave a small peck to Ryan’s lips. Ryan’s hand started to move up his thigh, a gentle touch that sent Gavin’s mind melting. 

“You - you feel like electric or- or somethin’ like that,” Gavin breathed out. Lightning struck the lamppost outside the penthouse, a large beam of light right in front of his eyes. 

“Apparently the weather thinks so too,” Ryan chuckled, slightly breathless. 

It was there they molded themselves together again, basking in the pleasure of each other while the weather outside kept changing and changing. The sun would come out when they were finished, the storms only ever returning during their fits of passion. 

It had taken them time to figure out it was Gavin who controlled the weather. His emotions caused the ever changing storms and sunshine that had confused the meteorologists that resided within it. They laughed about the week of storms after they figured out what it meant, they made sure he wouldn’t cause another devastating flood ever again. Gavin didn’t think he would ever be able to get that sad again, to feel as lost as he had that evening. 

Life felt better with Ryan by his side. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for kudos, comments, etc. It’s always appreciated!
> 
> Follow my tumblr @goldenboy-gav :)


End file.
